


The Bells of the Cathedral

by EJ (girlwitham4carbine)



Series: Fanfic Fanmix [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Go Easy On Me, I don't usually write Myan so, M/M, So yeah, i left it pretty open to keep going but I'm not sure what I'd do, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2575250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwitham4carbine/pseuds/EJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But Austin was too big for that, and no matter how often he was here in the mornings before he clocked in, he rarely saw some of the same people twice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bells of the Cathedral

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Tom’s Diner by Suzanne Vega and I really liked the line about the woman straightening her stockings and thought I could do something with that. I might continue this in the form of a 1980s/1990s AU in the future I dunno (cause no one ever does those).  
> (The “diner” is Magnolia Cafe on South Congress here in Austin. The year is about 1989, going into the early 1990s. All of the other stuff mentioned were things around during this time.)
> 
> cross posted on tumblr here: http://ejraptor.tumblr.com/post/101885520334/the-bells-of-the-cathedral

It was honestly his new favorite diner; it reminded him of the even smaller diners back in Georgia, ones his parents would take him to as a child. The spacious yet cozy building somehow secluded from the hustle and bustle of the fairly busy main avenue. It was only busy because of all the construction, the once decrepit and frightening street now beginning to bloom under the new business and tourist ventures. Ryan was happy, having seen Congress’ potential when he first moved here as a young adult heading off to the University of Texas. Everyone knew each other back there though, all old friends that had been in the same town for decades. But Austin was too big for that, and no matter how often he was here in the mornings before he clocked in, he rarely saw some of the same people twice.

But the man behind the counter smiled when he sat down, a small glint of recognition in his eyes and a quirk of his comically large mustache as Ryan quickly asked for a simple cup of coffee. He reached for the pot behind him and Ryan could see the multitude of tattoos littering his arms. They looked so haphazard, some overlapping others or leaving a small inch of bare skin, yet they worked with the aura of the man himself. He quickly turned back and began pouring the rich liquid into a sterile white cup.

It stopped abruptly at halfway, and before Ryan could even argue, the man was looking towards the front window. Ryan turned in his seat slightly, seeing a beautiful woman with tattoos completely encompassing her arms giving a quick yet elegant shake of her umbrella.

"It’s always nice to see you."

The mustached man smiles at the new arrival, the gesture even brighter and more genuine than the one Ryan received. They both forgot about the half filled mug as the beautiful woman sits down and begins conversing with the other man.

The moment looked so intimate, so comfortable and easy between the two of them. Ryan absently thought that they would look good together, matching rings around their fingers to go with the matching smiles and matching tattoos. But he pretends to ignore them, pouring his creamer to fill the other half of the mug.

He then hid his face into the day’s _Statesman_ , flipping through until his eyes fell on some story about an actor who died drinking or something. He’d never heard of him - not because Ryan wasn’t versed in a bit of movie knowledge here and there, but because it was some British man apparently working in the States. He suddenly felt a little bad for not knowing about the man until his death (one should be appreciated in life first and foremost, his parents had said). ‘ _Poor guy_ ’, he concluded, turning back to look for some funny pages to lift this small bout of gloom. Before he could begin reading any of them however, he felt the presence of eyes on him.

He quickly raised his head, eyes catching those of a young man’s in the window. His soft face made him look like he was barely out of school, but the smooth curve of his jaw and gaze said otherwise. Ryan worried the man could see his wide eyes and half open mouth, and was quickly embarrassed. Yet as soon as their eyes had met, they quickly retreated. The man brushed at his head of curls, shaking as much water as he could from them. He bent over, lifting up his pants leg and shaking the water from those too. He continued straightening his uniform, which Ryan now saw were plain and tattered coveralls. There were slight burns and discolorations from what he could see through the window, the young man clearly working for a living.

In the next instant, the man was walking through the door to the restaurant, and Ryan couldn’t stare anymore. Not when the man started getting closer and he clearly could see the glasses he wore in front of bright brown eyes and the freckles dotted over his bare skin. Not when the man sat himself down in the stool right next to Ryan, a low sigh escaping his body as he silently ordered, “A coffee please.”

Ryan decides to feign politeness rather than curiosity, turning a bit towards the man before opening his mouth to speak.

"How’s your day been so far?"

The young man has a look that mirrors Ryan’s own from before, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. His eyes searched their general vicinity before he was sure that yes, he was the one being addressed. A hand found the back of his head, tangling in the curls and honestly making no difference in their appearance.

"To be honest? Pretty shit."

Well, he was certainly blunt about it.

"No umbrella?"

"It broke 5 blocks down."

"You’ve walked that far?"

"I walk to work everyday man, can’t you tell by my choice of fashion?"

There was a light smirk on his face as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coveralls, leaning back a little off the stool. Ryan chuckled, definitely amused by this man and his brutal honesty.

"I’m not exactly keen on it either, so don’t worry about it."

They continue for a lengthy period of time, long after Michael gets his coffee and Ryan orders himself another. It feels as if everything just keeps going, the two either finding a new topic to talk about or small periods of silence to take sips from their drinks. They are finally torn from whatever spell they were in at the sound of the church bells from the old church about a block away, still ringing out ever hour without a care to what many believed were annoyances on the up and coming street. Ryan glances at his watch, and realizes just what time it was.

"I have to catch the train."

He looks down at his second coffee mug - not sure of when it became finished in the first place- before standing up and grabbing his briefcase. The man watched his motions through it all, a calm look on his face as he sees him nearly punch himself trying to get his coat on.

"The _Eagle_?”

"Yeah, I have about half an hour to get downtown to Lamar."

"You’d better hope you can find a cab, or you’ll be running faster than the rain."

Ryan laughed genuinely at that, turning back to drop his pay on the counter before taking a few steps towards the door.

"It was nice talking to you."

"Same to you."

Both of them wanted to say something - anything - along the lines of ‘ _Maybe I’ll see you around_ ’. But neither did before Ryan was back out  and into the storm, black umbrella quickly disappearing amongst the gray of the outside world.

Michael sighed much more audibly after that, catching glimpses from the tattooed pair still chit-chatting a few seats away from him. He hadn’t even learned the man’s name, only vague information about how he was a businessman in the city. Michael figured his quick departure was because of just that, very aware that hardly anyone in Austin rode the train quite as often as one did back in Jersey.

He heard the man behind the counter move towards him, before he saw a small piece of paper suddenly come into view. It was a business card, with little bright gold lettering and a name emblazoned at the top. The mustached man was smirking a little, and he quickly moved back to continue talking with the other patron. Michael took the card in hands and read it. ‘ _Ryan Haywood,_ _IT Systems Manager’.._ Yeah, he could work with this.

He stood from the stool and paid for the coffee, bidding the man and woman a small wave before he himself stepped back out onto the streets of Austin.


End file.
